


Dumb Adventures

by Laperclip



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, so much fluff you guys, they hold hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21550960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laperclip/pseuds/Laperclip
Summary: "Caspar might be slow on the uptake sometimes, but he wasn’t the emotional brick that people seemed to take him for. He knew a thing or two about relationships. Maybe *only* a thing or two, but a thing or two nonetheless."A shopping trip turns into a whole afternoon, because they both want to spend time together but neither has the courage to just say it out loud like that. A first date fic for Cashepar Week 2019! They're baby. I love them.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Comments: 11
Kudos: 83





	Dumb Adventures

It was just a trip into town for groceries, but the way Ashe had asked… he was smiling so shyly that it made Caspar’s stomach do flips. Caspar was not fluent in subtext, however, and put the feeling down to a bad breakfast. There wasn’t much in the world that could stop Caspar from spending an afternoon with Ashe, anyway; an upset stomach least of all.

At least, that’s what Caspar told himself as he tried to quell the nervous buzzing in his gut.

They talked about a lot of things on the way down that formidable mountain staircase that led to the town proper. They discussed their mission, first of all -- which supplies to get, and where to get them from. Caspar didn’t usually have the patience for running errands, but this was _different._ Whenever he went with Ashe, it was more like an _adventure_. Everything was just a little bit brighter, a little more fun, a little more interesting. The markets were lively on Sundays, so they were sure to find some really neat things along the way. At least, that’s what Ashe said.

(Caspar secretly hoped they’d find some damsel to save from a thief again or something. That happened to them once before. It was fun. Ashe was shockingly competent when it came to cornering bad guys.)

Ashe talked about the oddities he used to find discarded in the marketplace of his hometown: new clothes with just barely a tear in them, ugly wooden statuettes with soulless miscarved eyes, and he even found an ouija board once -- but the story ended there, and Caspar knew Ashe didn’t like spooky things, so he supplemented with his own story about that one time he nearly got arrested breaking in to Hevring manor. It led into a discussion about what they would do if an intruder broke into their classroom and tried to hold the students hostage.

The mid-afternoon sun was the only witness to how close they were walking while they argued.

“You’d break your legs if you jumped from that height! And you don’t even have a trained wyvern, Caspar,” Ashe argued.

“Not _yet_ , but if I start training one now--”

“And I suppose the wyvern is inside taking the exam with us, right?”

“I’m just saying, if you lure the guy out-- You’re good with people, just distract him for a bit and I’ll go out the window--”

“We can’t use people as bait; the point is to _protect_ \--”

“--and I’ll get on my trained wyvern, _which I already have in this scenario--_ ”

The more Caspar exaggerated his ridiculous plan, the more Ashe laughed. Talking to Ashe was as easy as breathing, and _way_ more fun.

When they neared the bottom of the staircase, Ashe’s hand brushed against Caspar’s three times before Caspar started to entertain the thought that it might be in the realm of possibility that it _maybe, potentially_ wasn’t an accident. But even then… Ashe was a whole different kind of person than anyone else. He liked being close to _everyone_ , not just Caspar. He always held onto his hugs longer than anyone else, after all.

Caspar settled on the thought that it probably didn’t mean anything.

Ashe finally elbowed Caspar in the ribs to get his undivided attention, and held out his hand palm-up. It was as clear a signal as he could make it.

The sudden quiet in Caspar’s head was completely foreign to him. He took Ashe’s hand gingerly, forgetting how to breathe for a moment when Ashe laced their fingers together, and they walked just a little bit slower from then on.

Ashe was just. A really good. Uh. A really friendly person.

Friends hold hands, right?

Their conversation resumed, lively as ever, once Caspar found his breath again. But now they were _holding hands_. Whatever that meant, it made Caspar was grin like a fool. He could feel his smile stretching his cheeks taut, but he couldn’t find the space in his head to give a damn. He felt like he was walking on air.

Ashe took Caspar through his favourite market stalls to show off all of the crafts and creations the townsfolk made, and to visit the jam and fudge stalls that often had free samples on weekends. The only time they stopped holding hands was when Caspar, in an impulsive attempt to impress Ashe, sampled far too much of the “not for the faint of heart” Ailell death-pepper chilli jam. They had to dip out of the busy intersection and recover for a while.

Ashe didn’t take Caspar on any more detours after that.

He led them to the fruit and vegetable stalls, and the two achieved their primary goal of securing supplies for supper without further incident (much to Caspar’s disappointment; incidents were the _fun part_ ). Their mission complete and their stamina beginning to dwindle, the boys began up the staircase back to the monastery.

Caspar was on cloud nine the whole afternoon, despite the fact that they hadn’t found any thieves, and despite the fact that he still couldn’t feel his tongue from the spicy jam. His hand was cramping up, but that didn’t matter either. His thoughts were exclusively on the boy that held it. The way Ashe’s eyes would wrinkle up in the afternoon sun was almost suspiciously charming, like he was holding Caspar’s heart hostage with a glance _on purpose_ . Caspar was terrified that if he adjusted his grip on Ase’s hand at all, or let go even for a moment, that he’d ruin _something_ and they’d have to stop.

They weren’t just holding hands as friends, right? People don’t do that.

_Right?_

Look.

Caspar might be slow on the uptake sometimes, but he wasn’t the emotional brick that people seemed to take him for. He knew a thing or two about relationships. Maybe _only_ a thing or two, but a thing or two nonetheless. The fact that Ashe wanted to hold his hand was great. Incredible, even! It made his brain short-circuit and his stomach do flips and he hadn’t realised how calloused Ashe’s palms were from using a bow all the time; he really thought Ashe’s skin would be softer, but--

But.

Caspar was so incredibly scared of being wrong. If he was misinterpreting whatever was going on here, he would most assuredly _ruin everything_ , and Ashe would never want to come near him again.

Caspar would rather go on adventures and make puppy dog eyes in secret than even _risk_ losing this.

It was way safer to stop thinking about it entirely, and stick with what he knew.

And Caspar knew how to make Ashe laugh. He knew that he could talk about whatever and it’d go over just fine. He knew that they could go on dumb adventures -- even boring ones, like getting groceries -- and they’d still have a great time together and not have to worry about anything.

It’s not like putting words to the stuff they did would change anything, anyway. If holding hands was a thing they do now, then Caspar was all for it. So, with a pigheaded sort of determination, Caspar held Ashe’s hand all the way up the stairs to the monastery. He carried the bulk of their spoils in his free hand and pretended he wasn’t scared at all.

Ashe might’ve believed it, but he was good at knowing what people were feeling, so it was hard to say if it worked or not.

When they finally reached the kitchen, Caspar handed off the bag of groceries to a cook with chestnut hair.

“I see you two are getting along now,” she said with a playful smile. She had witnessed most of Ashe and Caspar’s altercations in the pantry over the last few months, but she seemed less surprised about this development than perhaps she should have.

Caspar felt embarrassment creep up the back of his neck -- had he really been _that_ obvious? -- but Ashe saved him from having to find a way to respond. “We are, thank you,” Ashe said politely, leaving no room for further prying in his kind but firm tone. The cook took the groceries and hurried to the pantry, trying vainly to hide her smile behind a hand.

“Thanks,” Caspar said. A monk looked up from his plate of food, startled, and Caspar tried harder to switch to his inside voice. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand absently; transfixed on the fact that even though their mission was over, Ashe hadn’t let go of his hand yet.

“Uh, I’ve gotta check the chores roster for the week. Wanna… come with?”

Ashe beamed. He gripped Caspar’s hand a little tighter. “Of course!”

It was a half-baked excuse, but Ashe took it enthusiastically enough that relief washed through Caspar’s chest. He didn’t want their day together to end just yet, but he didn’t have the courage to just come out with it like that. Ashe made it easy to act like they really did have Important Business to attend to.

The truth was that Ashe had a reason or two in the back of his mind that he might use to keep walking together as well, but Caspar never got to hear them.

They took the long way to the classroom bulletin board, meandering into the monastery gardens just as the sun began to turn a rich orange.

Now, usually Caspar _hated_ meandering. When his mind was racing, his body had to move to keep up or he’d probably literally explode. But walking with Ashe was another story entirely. He wasn’t thinking about what else he could be doing, or how long until his next training session, or how the last mission went. He wanted to _tell_ Ashe about stuff, and get Ashe’s reactions to his exciting anecdotes. At the moment, Caspar was engrossed in the story Ashe was telling about a legendary knight. Hearing about knights and stuff through Ashe was great, because Caspar liked them in _theory_ , but books just couldn’t hold his attention like Ashe could.

And Ashe clearly loved telling stories. The myth and mystery of it all captured his imagination like little else could, so he used vocal embellishments and everything. “We know the Moon Knight existed because the armor the Queen gave her is kept in Fhirdiad, but no one knows her true identity for sure.” Ashe looked like he was revealing something secret, eyes lit up conspiratorially. “Some say she was the Queen’s consort -- but I think the Moon Knight was the Queen herself, using a mask so that her deeds could speak for themselves.”

“The Queen fought guys in secret? _Awesome._ ”

“Yes, exactly! It would make sense, considering she didn’t appear in public very often. Imagine, throwing everything away to devote yourself to defending the common people and delivering justice, unbound by politics and status…”

Ashe was so cool. He talked with his hands when he really got going on a topic, taking Caspar’s hand along for the ride.

Caspar was so distracted by how much he enjoyed walking with Ashe that he hadn’t realised they’d passed the classrooms and gone all the way to the graveyard until the breeze picked up. It was chilly and powerful, sweeping up the mountainside to greet them. The last rays of the sun were beginning to blink out behind the cathedral towers, leaving the boys in a cool twilight glow.

Ashe stopped at the chest-high wall, savouring the view of the valley below. His nose was going red in the early winter chill. Caspar leaned over the wall as far as he could, enjoying the small thrill of open air below him. Their interlocked hands rested between them on the stone overhang.

Looking at mountains was nice and all, but Caspar didn’t like the silence that stretched between them.

“Why are we here?” It was all Caspar could think to say. Their day wasn’t over yet, was it?

“I-I wasn’t really paying attention to where we were going,” Ashe admitted.

Caspar exhaled, relief cooling the anxious fire in his chest, and dropped back down. At least he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been focused on his dumb excuse to stay together. “Good, ‘cause neither was I,” Caspar said with a grin. “I just liked walking with you.”

It was just the truth, but Caspar’s words seemed to hit Ashe like a gust of wind. Ashe stood a little taller. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for his next words. “Can I kiss you, Caspar?”

Caspar’s peanut brain broke. “Uhhhhh…”

A long moment passed, and the tension left Ashe’s shoulders like a wilting flower.

Then he did the _worst thing in the world._

Ashe let go of Caspar’s hand, leaving a cold impression where it had been for the past few hours.

“Thank you for coming with me today,” he said with the sweetest, most understanding smile, despite the embarrassed flush in his cheeks. “I had a lot of fun.”

Yes. Yes. The answer was supposed to be yes, but Caspar’s brain wasn’t working right, _because holy hell, Ashe wanted to--!?_ And now Ashe wasn’t holding his hand any more, and Caspar’s head was spinning.

It was a date.

It was a date the whole time.

Caspar felt like the biggest fool in history. People don’t just hold hands for four hours _as friends._ Ashe had been doing everything he could to make his intentions clear, and Caspar had seen the signs and _wilfully ignored them_ , and now Ashe looked so _upset._ And _now_ Ashe looked ready to make an excuse and bolt. Oh no. Ashe was leaving. Caspar needed to fix this, _right now,_ before he lost this chance to his own obtuse hesitation.

And when Caspar really wanted to do something -- especially when he was in a state of abject panic like this -- he wasn’t in the habit of doing it meekly.

Ashe pushed himself away from the wall, but that’s as far as he got before Caspar threw his entire being into dragging him back by the neck into a fierce and clumsy kiss. Their lips were pressed closed, more nose and smiles than anything else -- and they _were_ smiling, the both of them, because being close to each other was so exhilarating that the gracelessness of it didn’t matter at all.

Ashe was beaming when Caspar released him. The culmination of his tension and embarrassment spilled over into a charming, boyish giggle.

“‘M sorry,” Caspar said, trying in vain to rub the heat away from his ears. _Can I kiss you._ What kind of answer was he supposed to come up with when the question made his head all fuzzy in the first place? “Don’t ask me stuff like that. I’m no good with words.”

Ashe’s hood was askew, so he busied his hands with adjusting it. “D-don’t be sorry, _I’m_ sorry! I just- I should’ve said something sooner. I really like you, Caspar. I guess… I didn’t want to scare you?”

Caspar puffed his chest proudly, the words tumbling around in his head. Ashe _really liked_ him. “C’mon, you know I’m totally fearless. Nothing scares me.” He grinned, feeling courageous despite the furious pounding of his heart. “Not even kissing.”

Ashe’s eyebrows shot up. “Kissing… doesn’t scare you?”

“Y-yeah,” Caspar said, now a little wary. Not scared. _Wary._

There was a dangerous amount of boldness in the smile that graced Ashe’s face. “I’m glad, because I’d like to try that again.”

As instructed -- an intentionally devilish interpretation of Caspar’s words, to be sure -- Ashe didn’t ask permission this time. He took Caspar’s face in his hands steadily; an attempt to keep Caspar’s enthusiasm in check. Ashe’s hair was windswept and his nose and cheeks were red from the cold, and seeing him up close made Caspar’s breathing switch to manual. Ashe hesitated a moment, almost as though he were about to falter, but he looked determined not to shrink from this -- and then Ashe brought their faces together for a second kiss.

It was just a gentle peck, but it was soft, and it lingered. This was clearly closer to the kiss that Ashe had planned originally if Caspar hadn’t messed up their first one.

Okay, maybe Caspar was scared of _some_ things. The strength of the affection he felt rise to his chest, into his throat and up to his head, very nearly shut down his entire body. He was hostage to Ashe’s gentleness.

When they separated, the same cold impression that was in his hand was left on his lips, so he brought the two together to try and preserve some of Ashe’s warmth. Caspar muttered something into his hand, but he couldn’t think straight enough to work out what he’d said.

Ashe’s burst of confidence had left with the last of the evening sun. He hid his face behind both hands, but his blush was telling. It had spread all the way to his ears. “I’m sorry!” he squeaked.

Aw, man.

Ashe was just. Too cute. Too much. It was all too much. Ashe _really liked_ him. Ashe _kissed_ him. _Ashe kissed him!_ And they _hold hands_ now! Caspar was over the moon about the whole thing. He--

Caspar turned around, leaned over the stone wall once more, and shouted into the valley as loud as he could. He had to do _something_ with all of that embarrassment and jubilation before he could form another coherent thought. Releasing the incredible jumble of energy from his gut into empty air was cathartic; it cooled his head and settled his stomach. His voice was eaten up by the chilly expanse, ringing pleasantly but lacking the echo he’d secretly hoped for.

When he turned back, Ashe’s face was still in his hands, but he was on the verge of laughing again. Caspar wasn’t sure what was so funny, but at least they were back in somewhat familiar territory. He was good at making Ashe laugh, at least. Even if it was unintentional.

“N-not scared. See?” Caspar’s voice was a little unsteady. He flashed a grin and Ashe _giggled -- holy hell, does he even know how charming he is? --_ and Caspar hoped he wasn’t blushing as fiercely as Ashe was, because that would be _embarrassing_. “And you gotta stop apologizing for stuff. I-”

Oh.

The words.

The Important Words He Needed To Say.

Caspar nearly hesitated, but he was too far into his sentence to stop now. “I- and, uh, I like you too.” Caspar swallowed hard. Somehow, saying words was _way_ harder than kissing. “Y-you said it before. So I. I thought I should say it too. B-because I do.” He was absolutely going to keep babbling until Ashe said something to stop him.

Thankfully, that didn’t take long. “So, um, you needed to… check your chores for the week?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Caspar had forgotten.

Well, whatever worked.

Ashe’s hands were clasped loosely in front of him. Loose enough for Caspar to curl his fingers around and draw one away. Holding Ashe’s hand was fun, and apparently it was a thing he was allowed to do now, so Caspar wasn’t going to stop until someone _made_ him.

They’d check their chores for now. Whatever.

That would give them a chance to come up with some new excuse to spend time together.


End file.
